50 years later, vets of Korean War recall armistice

After 16 months of living with the scream of artillery fire, the agonized shouts of fellow soldiers and the promise of death lingering on the perimeter, Staff Sgt. Robert James heard the roar of war go silent.

"It was over, just like that," said James, now a 71-year-old retired Cape Girardeau resident. "The company commander told us they had signed an armistice. We were going home."

It was 50 years ago today that the military armistice of July 27, 1953, ended three years of bitter warfare in Korea, a conflict that left 54,000 U.S. soldiers dead.

The Korean War was hyped as a battle against communism. But some say many of those soldiers don't get the same recognition as soldiers from the victorious world wars or the generation-defining Vietnam War.

It's been called the forgotten war, but today's anniversary seems even more relevant due to the tenuous foreign situation. Korea, which has bragged about its nuclear capabilities, has been mentioned as a future target in the war on terrorism.

A forgotten war? Not to the soldiers -- such as local men Robert James, Frank Bertrand and Donald Brown -- who were there.

Here are their recollections:

Robert James

James was engaged to his girlfriend, Marie -- now his wife of nearly five decades -- when he was drafted. He was living just up the hill from where he lives now on County Road 206 west of Cape Girardeau.

To a generation who has never faced a draft, his response to it may sound puzzling: "There wasn't much to think about," he said. "The draft wasn't a question. You had to go and serve your country."

He served for 16 months in an artillery unit, just a little over a mile from the 38th parallel, an invisible line that marks the border between North and South Korea.

James' job was firing a 155 mm howitzer, a cannon that shot eight-inch shells into the hills of Korea.

"We were six or seven miles from the front line," James said. "We fired into the area where the enemy was so our boys could move up."

James said he doesn't like talking about his time in the war too much. But it apparently was very stressful. He came home with an ulcerated stomach that required surgery and 22 transfusions.

"He almost died," his wife, Marie, recalled. "It bothered him more than he lets on."

But he still smiles when he's asked about the day the armistice was signed and a cease-fire enacted.

"We were just sitting around waiting for something to happen," he said. "You never knew when you were going to get called to do something."

Then the company commander came into their tent and told them the war was over.

"We had a little party," he said. "We had a few drinks, some beer and whatever we had. You know how that goes."

He returned home and went to work for Drury Co., where he worked in construction for 34 years. But Korea stays with him, he said. He thinks about it. He even wakes up some nights with the sounds of war in his head.

"It still jumps up on you," he said.

He's also noticed reports on television that he believes shows a path to another war in Korea. Today, one-third of the population of South Korea -- along with 37,000 U.S. troops -- are currently within range of the North Korean artillery.

"It seems like we're getting into the same mess we were in."

Frank Bertrand

Frank Bertrand doesn't like it when what happened in Korea is called anything but a war.

"They want to call it a police action," said the 72-year-old Cape Girardeau resident. "But when you're there, you know it's not a police action."

Bertrand was an Army soldier in an infantry division. He was boarding a ship to head home on the day they signed the armistice.

"After I got on the ship, they told me," he said. "I was headed home anyway."

A memory that is just as strong: the day he found out he was drafted. Bertrand, a lifelong river worker, was working as a deck hand in 1951 on the Mississippi River, on barges that carried agricultural products, coal, scrap or chemicals.

"I got off at Memphis, found out I had been drafted and went right home," he said. "I wasn't really scared. I wasn't scared to go. We did what we had to do. You're in the Army, you do what they tell you. To me, that was that."

He said in Korea, he didn't fight every day. He said he was rotated from the front line to the rear. But he remembers it was a hard existence.

"You were either in the trenches or training and that was it," he said.

When asked if he was relieved the war was over, his answer is no-nonsense.

"Of course," he said. "Why wouldn't anybody be?"

He came home, went back to work on the river, where he eventually became a boat pilot and retired 10 years ago. He said he doesn't talk about the war much.

"No reason to," he said. "It's long over."

Donald Brown

When word of the armistice reached Donald Brown and the men around him, there wasn't an immediate cease-fire.

"Everybody jumped up and hollered," he said, before adding with a grin: "And there may have been a celebratory shell or two fired off."

Brown, now 75, was in an armored field artillery unit north of Seoul. He said he didn't see a lot of combat in the hills, where he worked in the motor pool.

"When it comes to my time in Korea, there's not but two things to say: It was hot and cold," said Brown, who lives in Jackson. "We had severe winters and some really hot summers."

Brown was working for Southwestern Bell when he was drafted. He doesn't pretend he was all bravery.

"We all wondered when we went over there if we'd be coming back," he said. "That was part of it, sure. But back then, you had to go. It was the draft. I hope it never comes to that again."

When he got home, he went back to work for Southwestern Bell for 41 years in a variety of jobs.

He, too, has the images of Korea slip into and out of his mind from time to time.

"It was the war," he said. "War doesn't leave your mind too easily. It's sort of always with me."

smoyers@semissourian.com

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